Final Fantasy VII Oneshots and Drabbles

High Expectations [Rufus/Reader]

You honestly had no idea what the hell the last secretary was doing. There was no organization. No rhyme or reason as to where anything was. Honestly, you thought the secretary was trying to get fired. It was more like the secretary was trying to get their boss fired as per the order of their boss's boss.

That was unacceptable in your book. Especially now that the boss's boss was dead and now the boss was the boss. You shook your head knowing that only made you sound like some insane rambler. But it made sense...To you. Maybe your boss, too. He fired the last secretary the moment he was promoted via inheritance.

"Why are there sticky notes everywhere? I don't even know if they're relevant anymore," you grumbled and ran a hand through your hair. You held a sticky note up to the light to try and determine if the ink had faded at all.

"How's it goin'?"

You jumped and dropped the pale pink sticky note and glanced over. There was a Turk with spikey red hair. Sitting up straight, you cleared your throat. "I'm doing well, thank you. How may I help you?"

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand. "Just checkin' on the boss's new secretary. Heard you came in early. Last one sucked and was always late."

"Yes, well." Your eyes jumped around on every bit of torn paper on the desk. "I can see that. Did they know how to operate a computer?"

"She knew how to work her cellphone," he chuckled. He grabbed a chair and dragged it over to your desk. "Other than that, she wrote down messages on something she would tear out of a notebook and leave it on her desk."

"My god," you groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose. Just by glancing at the pieces of paper, they were so incoherent with the sloppiest of penmanship that you couldn't understand a single thing she was trying to say.

"But hey, at least the bar is set low."

"No! It's not set low!" you protested with a pout. "I have to exceed the bar I set for myself. Which is high, by the way."

The man chuckled. "You're a fiery one, aren't you?"

"More like dealing with constant anxiety," you muttered under your breath. "Anyways, I'm [Y/N]. It's nice to meet you."

"Reno," the man replied. He watched with amusement as you started to sort the scraps bit of paper. There was a pile of what you were sure were actually scribbles and no real words, a pile where there were just a couple of words and then scribbles, and a pile of what looked like could be an actual message. "Watcha plannin' on doing with that?"

"I'll be scanning and uploading them onto the computer, based on my best estimate as to what they actually say, and about what order they were written," you hummed in reply. Once they were sorted, you stood and hurriedly made your way over to printer/fax/scanner/time machine.

"You could just toss them," Reno suggested.

You stiffened at the idea. "No, there could be something important!"

"If there was something important, she wouldn't have written it down."

"Still," you sighed and started the long process of scanning every tiny bit of paper. Of course, you couldn't just put multiple sheets through the scanner to make it automatic. You had to put it on the scanning glass, one-by-one.

"Excuse me?" a voice sounded from the office's entrance. There was a soft knock on the door frame. You looked over and saw a woman holding a vase filled with white lilies, roses, daisies, and mums. "I have a delivery for [Y/N]."